


Flushed Away to Zootopia

by amythis



Category: Flushed Away (2006), Zootopia (2016)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-07-19
Packaged: 2018-07-16 15:30:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7273675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amythis/pseuds/amythis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A thrilling tale of amour, adventure and architecture, narrated by Roddy St. James, with interlinear commentary by Rita Malone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Under the Sea

Since the publication of my international best-seller [I saw loads of copies on the remainder table at Waterstones, one quid each, the other day], I'm frequently asked, "What happened next?" Well, at last the story can be told, and it is a thrilling tale of amour, adventure and architecture. [I'll let readers, if any, be the judge of that.]

As you'll recall, I became first mate on _The Jammy Dodger, Mark Two_ , leaving a good job in the city for a life of rolling on the river. Well, all right, it wasn't exactly a job, more of an unpaid companionship with a little girl named Tabitha. I did live in luxurious accommodations, but it was a rather dull and lonely life. And then I met Rita. Ah, lovely Rita, for whom, after a rocky start, I soon harbored feelings warmer than friendship. However, I didn't speak of this, as I didn't want it to interfere with our working relationship. [I knew he fancied me, and I won't say that I found that too terrible, but I wasn't going to say anything if he wasn't.]

This story begins one fine day when we set out in the _JD II_. We usually sailed the sewers underneath London, but Rita had made a bet that we could get to Paris in less than twelve hours! [In _The Dodger_. It would've gone faster with the Channel Tunnel of course.] We had a hearty breakfast, cooked by her mum. (Her family adore me and they recognize that I'm prime grandson/son/brother-in-law material. [Unfortunately this is true.]) I hoped that the two of us would be sipping celebratory champagne that evening in a nice cafe near the Eiffel Tower. [Champagne makes me sneeze, although not as much as pollen.]

We never even made it to Calais, because in the Strait of Dover we were swept into a whirlpool! [It was not on the map.] As we rushed towards the watery mouth of doom, I thought this might be the end. I was tempted to tell Rita of my feelings for her but resisted since, one, such a confession wouldn't do me much good if we were dying, and two, if we weren't dying, then I'd have to deal with the consequences. Well, and three, I was screaming my head off. [Like a little girl.]

After a minute, I realized that I wasn't the only one screaming. Rita had a grim, determined look on her face, so her teeth were too clenched to emit screams. Then I noticed that some of my friends the slugs had stowed away on this expedition. And they can be champion screechers when they set their little minds to it. [I felt like my ears were bleeding.] 

"Oi, shut it!" Rita snapped, silencing me and the slugs.

And then as we zoomed into the swirling vortex in the sea, I was so overwhelmed that I lost consciousness.

[He swooned like a Victorian maiden. I wasn't so lucky. I had to quickly lash Roddy and myself to the boat so that we wouldn't be washed overboard. I reckoned the slugs could fend for themselves. They flew off as we plunged into the, sigh, swirling vortex. Things got a bit chaotic after that, what with the torrential waves and all that. If we survived this, I was going to wallop my kid brother Liam, the one I'd made the stupid bet with. 

Being a sewer rat, I'm good at holding my breath, and we weren't underwater as long as I feared. Before I knew it, the good old _Dodger_ resurfaced! But this did not look like the Strait of Dover. It was an icy sea! Possibly the North Sea. _Bugger,_ I thought, _we'll never make it to Paris by tonight!_

I untied myself and raced to the wheel, wanting to avoid icebergs. And then Roddy shouted, "Woman, what have you done to me?"]

When I regained consciousness, I found that I was tied to the mast of the boat! "Woman, what have you done to me?"

"Saved your life again," she replied irritably.

"Well, thank you. Er, are you going to untie me?"

"Hang about, let me first steer us to someplace safer."

"Where are we?"

"Dunno. Possibly off the coast of Norway."

"Norway?!"

"Or Denmark. I haven't exactly had a chance to get me bearings yet."

"Oh dear."

"I'm not thrilled about it meself, but at least we're alive."

"Fair point."

I let her concentrate on steering for awhile and, as I had nothing else to do at the moment, I looked around as well as I could while fixed in one place. And then I spotted land. "Ahoy! Rita, look, off in the distance! Land!"

She glanced in the direction I was pointing. "Looks like Antarctica."

"Yes, it is rather snow-capped. But it is land."

She shrugged. "I reckon it'll have to do." She started steering in that direction.

Along the way, we came across another, much larger, boat. Probably manned by humans. Now, my relationship with humans has been generally satisfactory. The family I lived with were quite kind to me. Rita, however, is warier. [With reason.] She turned off _The Dodger's_ motor, not wanting to be observed.

As we drifted closer, it appeared that the ship was in fact manned, or rather beared (born? borne?), by polar bears! I was about to say that we must've gone very far north, but Rita put her finger to her lips, so I remained silent. A couple bears climbed over the side in skin-diving suits. (The other bears were dressed as sailors, reasonably enough.) We watched in silence for awhile, until the diving bears resurfaced with a metal chest. I glanced at Rita. Her eyes were glinting. She has a weakness for treasure, especially jewels. [It's not a weakness. I knew I could feed my family for a year on what I'd sell that treasure chest for.] I was worried she'd try to board the larger boat and figure out a way to heist the chest. [I'm not a bloody pirate! I'd have offered them a fair trade.]

Then one of the sailor-bears spotted _The Dodger_ and pointed at us! Before I knew it, our boat was on their boat! And I was helpless, still tied to the mast. [I don't know what he thought he could've done if he were free. He's braver than when I met him, but he's not exactly the brawn of our operation.]

"What should we do with 'em?" asked one bear.

"Take 'em to Mr. Big of course."

I did not like the sound of that. [Nor did I.]


	2. Cold as Ice

The bears left me tied up of course, and they tied Rita too securely for her to undo the knots. I was glad we hadn't drowned but I wasn't too optimistic about our immediate future.

"Pardon me for asking," I asked the bear guarding us, "but who is Mr. Big?"

"The most feared crime boss in Tundratown," he grunted.

"Ah." I'd never heard of Tundratown, but we were clearly in an English-speaking territory, which was somewhat reassuring, as we might be able to talk our way out of this. I wondered if Mr. Big would be worse than our previous nemesis, The Toad.

I had a decent view from my place on our boat on their boat, and as we came nearer to Tundratown, I could see that this was a lovely if chilly land, like some sort of winter wonderland. I would've asked how far north (or south?) we were but our guard and the other bears didn't seem particularly communicative. Rita also wasn't talking, and I wasn't sure if she was seething or planning. Knowing her, probably both. [Neither. I was actually despairing. Our situation seemed hopeless. We were who knew how many miles from home and I had no idea how we could get back, even if we somehow managed to escape.]

The larger vessel made its way past some small, equally frosty islands and to a pier. The bears untied us from _The Dodger_ while still keeping us bound. They carried us down the gangplank and to the dock. To my surprise, we were met by a sleek white limousine. It didn't match the scruffiness of the sailor-bears, but I supposed Mr. Big sent it. They'd likely radioed ahead that they had treasure and two prisoners.

They didn't blindfold us during the drive to Mr. Big's headquarters, but then we were too small to see out the windows of the limo. And it wasn't as if we would've been able to retrace our route even if we had seen. Not to mention that they put _The Dodger_ in the trunk of the limo and we had no way of retrieving it. Well, maybe Rita could pop the lock if we did regain our freedom. [His faith in my skills is touching but misplaced. I'm not Houdini.]

We sat between two of the bears in the backseat. We could've tried to communicate in whispers, but what was there to say? All we could do was wait.

At last, we arrived at Mr. Big's. When our guard carried us out of the car, I could see that this was a grand estate with snow-covered lawns. He and the other bears made their way up the steps of the mansion and down a hallway, till we arrived in some sort of library, study, or den. This, too, was frosty, and I shivered in the shoestrings Rita had bound me with.

The polar bears were of course large and intimidating, so I couldn't help wondering what sort of animal Mr. Big was. An elephant perhaps? Well, imagine my surprise when he turned out to be an arctic shrew! Yes, I know that arctic shrews are the most vicious of all rodents (unlike we rats, who can be quite pleasant and civilized), but they're not exactly big. Perhaps "big" referred less to his size than his influence. He obviously was feared for a reason.

"Are these the two witnesses?" Mr. Big asked, sounding rather like the late Marlon Brando.

Our guard nodded.

"Ice 'em!" Mr. Big commanded.

Rita and I looked at each other. That was exactly what The Toad had said before he had his henchrats put us in a refrigerator! Of course, this room was so cold, they might not even need an appliance to ice us.

I wasn't sure how we were going to get out of this. Last time, we were tied back-to-back and while we we were in the fridge, Rita had me reach into her back pocket for a paper clip. But that wasn't going to work this time, since we were being held separately in the paws of our guard.

Then another bear, not one of the sailors but a henchbear in a dark suit, kicked back the throw rug to reveal a trapdoor, which he flung back to reveal an underground icy river. That was going to be a bit more to cope with than a refrigerator. I wondered if it would work for us to bite the guard's paws, but we were seriously outnumbered and the bears might gag us.

I suddenly remembered, our mouths were free not just for biting but for speaking. I didn't know what I'd say but anything could serve as a delay. "Wait!" I cried.

[I was afraid he was going to make it worse but I didn't know how to stop him. I actually hoped we'd be thrown in the hole because maybe we could swim towards each other and he could pull out the paper clip from my back pocket, without accidentally goosing me this time, and then we would be free and hopefully swim to safety before we froze or drowned. Of course, I didn't know how we'd get _The Dodger_ back, but Mr. Big and his bears would think we were dead, so maybe we could sneak back into the mansion later.]

"Wait for what?" Mr. Big sounded a little bored.

"For us to explain. You see, we didn't witness anything."

"And now you never will."

Our guard had us suspended over the icy cavern, his paws slowly opening, when another shrew, a very pregnant female, came in and said, "Daddy! It's time for us to go! Ack, what did we say? No icing anyone the night of the concert!"

The guard's paws tightened around us again.

"I have to, Baby, Daddy has to. Ice 'em!"

"No, no, no!" I protested.

"Can't you wait till after the concert?" the female shrew whined. "I don't want to miss the opening act."

Mr. Big sighed and gestured for his henchbears to cover the trap door again. "OK, we'll take 'em along."

"Oh my gawd, you two are so lucky! Gazelle is the best, am I, right?"

Rita and I thought it best to nod.


	3. As Long As You Follow

As you know, I adore music. However, being held captive at a rock concert was not exactly the circumstance most conducive to enjoyable listening.

Animals of all sizes and species were in attendance for the leggy pop sensation Gazelle. (Had I seen her on the Eurovision Song Contest? I couldn't recall.) Our guard was kind enough to hold us high enough that we could catch glimpses of the singer and her four tiger back-up dancers. They were on a multi-tiered platform in the center of a small pool that was in the center of the venue, with flashing multi-coloured lights.

It crossed my mind that with such a large crowd, we might be able to escape and blend in, but there was the danger of being trampled by elephants, bears, and other large animals. And our guard still had a tight grip on us.

Then Rita said something to our guard that I couldn't catch over the music. Our guard held her closer to his ear so that he could hear her better. Then he lowered her and raised me to shout, "How about you, Rat? You need to use the can?"

I was puzzled and then Rita mouthed up at me, "The loo."

"Oh, yes, thank you, Sir. I do."

I wasn't sure if she had a plan but I hadn't been to the toilet since before this adventure started, so I thought it was a good idea to go while I had the chance. It occurred to me that it was too bad we wouldn't be using the same facilities, because there might be a way for us to escape together. But then if we were both going to the men's room, or the ladies', our guard probably wouldn't trust us to go in at the same time.

[I didn't have much of a plan but I reckoned that eluding our guard for even a couple minutes would help. I'd check out the loo and see if there was a way to escape from it. Roddy would hopefully do the same in the men's. Then we'd somehow meet up and get back _The Dodger_. Obviously, this would take awhile, but it would be easier to do if we were free. And if Roddy couldn't escape and I could, then I'd figure out a way to rescue him. Or if he escaped and I didn't, he'd rescue me, as he had before.]

As our guard carried us through the crowd, I had the sudden thought _The toilet! Of course!_ Rita wanted us to flush ourselves down the toilets and we'd escape that way. Obviously, we'd still have to somehow meet up, but presumably the toilets in the concert hall all emptied into the same sewer. It wasn't a pleasant way to travel, as I well knew, but if it meant freedom, then I was willing. Of course, I wasn't sure how I would climb up to the top of the bowl with my arms and legs bound, but maybe I could find something to cut the shoelaces with. Or maybe a large animal with a pocket-knife would take pity on me once I explained. Unless he was unwilling to risk the wrath of the Mob. Well, one step at a time.

I was very disappointed when our guard set us on the floor and I saw that he'd taken us to the rodents' restrooms. I'd been imaging that all animals used the same facilities, perhaps with ladders along the sides of the toilets to accommodate smaller creatures. Now I saw that there were several sets of restrooms, of varying size.

"Aren't you going to untie me?" Rita demanded.

She had a point. If we were actually going to relieve ourselves, that would be difficult to do with our hands tied behind us. The bear hesitated and then crouched down and undid her bonds. "Go in," he said gruffly and she waved and entered the rodent ladies' room.

"I suppose you want to be untied, too."

"If you don't mind."

"OK, but I've got to retie you when you come back."

"Of course." I had no intention of coming back if it could be avoided.

He untied me and then said, "Be quick. I need to get you two back to the concert hall before Mr. Big notices."

I felt sorry for our guard. He was only doing his job. However, his job was less important than our freedom.

I went in and quickly used the urinal. After I washed my hands, I looked around to see if there was any way out besides the way I came in. The toilets were far too small to flush myself down and the windows were locked, probably to prevent someone attending without a ticket. I was just about to return to the guard, when I heard someone sing, "Now I know I can't lose as long as you follow."

I looked on the floor and saw a slug smiling as it stood next to a drain cover it had managed to push aside.

I grinned and quietly sang back, "I'm gonna win. I'm gonna win! I'm gonna beg, steal, or borrow. Yes, I can live today, if you give me tomorrow."

The slug sang back, "As long as you follow, as long as you follow."

[While he was singing duets with a gastropod, another slug surprised me on the toilet. No, I wasn't relieving myself. I reckoned that could wait. But I was standing on the rim wondering if I could try to make myself as small as possible and squeeze through. The rodent ladies' also had sealed windows so I knew I couldn't get out that way. Anyhow, my slug knew better than to sing at me. It just silently led me to the drain opening on the floor.

"Thanks, Mate. Er, sorry about not tying you down on the boat. Erm, that is if you're one of the slugs from Ratroplis. If not, never mind. Of course, if I had tied you down, you wouldn't be able to help me now, would you?"

The slug didn't say anything but just gestured towards the opening as well as it could without limbs.

"Right, thanks." It did occur to me that this might be a trap. How did I know for sure that this was one of the slugs that Roddy was friends with? It could be working for the Mob. Well, I fancied my chances more with the slug than the bear guard. So I said, "Lead on, Macduff," and it did.]


	4. We Gotta Get Outa This Place

The slug and I were silent as we made our way through the underground tunnel. I knew that it was too low and narrow for the guard to pursue me, but there could've been more shrews in the Mob. Perhaps Mr. Big himself would give chase!

The slug traveled at a snail's pace but I couldn't really complain. At last we emerged into a full carpark. I looked around and saw Rita signalling to me. I hurried over to her. I was glad our arms were free so that we could hug, which we briefly did.

"Urgh, thanks for the affection," she grumbled, pulling away, "but do you think you could've waited till we weren't covered in the muck of the sewer?" [He's a very good hugger, but this wasn't really the time or place.]

"Oh, right, sorry. What should we do now?"

"I think we need to stow away in a car. Preferably one that the Mob won't chase after."

I looked around again. "Will that do?" I asked, pointing at a police cruiser.

She grinned. "Yeah, that'll do."

We approached the vehicle which had "ZPD" on the side. (Zaire? Zimbabwe? Were we possibly in Africa? Or was the Z for a town or city? Yes, that would make more sense. Possibly Zurich, which would explain the snow.)

"I'm going to have to break in carefully," Rita whispered. "There's bound to be a car alarm and other security devices."

"Couldn't we just climb through the rolled-down window?" I asked, pointing up. [Well, I felt like a numpty. Maybe Roddy is the brains of the operation, sometimes anyway.]

She had more shoelaces in her pockets, so she fashioned a rope which she lassoed onto the handle of the nearest side door and we managed to climb up and over the door. Then she unfastened the laces and we jumped down onto the backseat. From there, we jumped to the floor and hid under the seat. We managed this just in time, since we heard voices approaching the car. And soon that door opened and two animals sat down, although their feet didn't touch the floor. The front doors opened as well, and then all the doors closed.

"O. M. Goodness!" exclaimed an excited male voice. "That was the best concert in the history of mammalkind!"

"Yeah, it was great! Thanks for treating us, Clawhauser," said an almost as excited female voice. "And thank you for driving us here, Chief."

"No problem. But I expect you all to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at work tomorrow morning," said a gruff male voice.

"Well, I can manage half of that," said a sarcastic male voice. "And speaking of, Carrots, can get your bag o' souvenirs off my tail?"

"Oh, sorry."

The female set her bag down on the floor. As the car started, the bag fell over onto its side. Rita gestured that we should crawl inside. I hesitated, not wanting to muck up the female's souvenirs, but it would be a good temporary hiding place. So I followed Rita in and covered myself with part of a sparkly T-shirt that had Gazelle's portrait.

The four voices discussed the concert, with varying degrees of enthusiasm. I'm afraid I zoned out for a bit, drained by our adventures. [I tried to stay alert, but he didn't miss much. They also talked about police work, but no mention was made of Mr. Big. I did find out that the "Z" in "ZPD" stood for "Zootopia," but I had no idea where in the world that was.]

I tuned back in when the gruff voice said, "Wilde, where am I dropping you off?"

"Uh, you know what?" said the sarcastic male. "I can walk there from Officer Hopps's place."

"Fine. We'll drop off you and Hopps first."

I just barely caught the female whispering, "You don't still live under a bridge, do you?"

"I was just hanging out that day," he whispered back.

We soon arrived where Hopps (the female) lived. She picked up her bag and she and Wilde (the sarcastic male) got out of the car. They said goodnight to the other two and then I heard the cruiser take off.

"Nick, can you hold the bag while I get out my key?"

"Sure." I could feel the bag being transferred and then Nick Wilde said, "Oof! This is heavier than it looks. What do you have in there?"

"Oh, just gifts for some of my siblings."

"Not all 275?" [Well, that had even my family beat! I've got only 36.]

"No, not quite. Um, would you like to come upstairs for some coffee?"

"You just want me to carry this bag upstairs, right?"

"You saw through me."

"As usual. Yeah, coffee sounds good."

She unlocked the door to the building and then I could feel them going up a couple flights of stairs. Then she unlocked the door to what must've been her flat.

"So this is your apartment?"

"Yeah, not too impressive I know."

"It's not too bad. Shabby but cozy."

"Thank you. And it's the first real privacy I've had." [I could imagine, with 275 siblings.]

"What about those neighbors you told me about?"

She sighed. "Well, at least they're not in the same room."

"What's that supposed to mean?" demanded a new male voice.

Then another new male voice said, "Be quiet. She's entertaining her boyfriend."

"He's not my— um, the coffee will be ready in a minute."

"Thanks. So let's see what you've got in here." Nick Wilde shook the bag upside-down over the bed, and Rita, the souvenirs, and I all fell out.


	5. Splish Splash

Hopps and Wilde were understandably surprised to see us. Hopps turned out to be a rabbit and Wilde a fox.

Wilde said, "Well, Carrots, it looks like you've got a couple stowaways. Stowaways who've crawled through the sewer."

"I apologize for soiling your bed and your souvenirs," I began.

"Yeah, we're very sorry, but we're running for our lives from the Mob!" Rita cut in.

"The Mob?" Hopps said.

"Yes," I said, "there's a vicious shrew who wants to ice us!"

"Oh." The rabbit looked less shocked than I expected.

"What did you do that got Mr. Big so mad at you?" Wilde asked.

"So you've heard of him?"

"The most feared crime boss in Tundratown? Yeah, I've heard of him. But then I know everybody in Zootopia."

"Zootopia? Ah, ZPD, Zootopia Police Department! So you know the police?"

"We are the police," Hopps said, but she didn't sound too happy about it.

"Look, why don't you two clean yourselves up and we'll all discuss this," suggested the fox.

"Good idea," said the rabbit. Then she picked us up, one in each paw.

"Hang on," Rita protested, "we don't have any clean clothes to change into."

Wilde looked at the bed, where, besides the souvenirs, were about a dozen bunny plushies. He quickly stripped the clothes off a couple of them and handed them to us.

"Um, thank you," I said.

Then the rabbit took us down the hallway to the bathroom. She set us in the shower stall, set a bar of soap on the floor, turned on the taps, and said, "I'll wait outside." She left and closed the door behind her.

"Now what do we do?" I asked.

"Well, I'm not showering with you, Mate."

"No, no, of course not. I'll stand over here in the corner, with my eyes closed." I did so.

"Oh, all right," Rita grumbled, and then presumably she took off her clothes and lathered up. I tried not to picture it. [Rrright.]

After awhile, she tapped my shoulder and said, "You're up next, Roddy."

"Can I uncover my eyes?"

"Well, it'll probably make showering easier."

I looked and she was wearing a blue shirt that was long enough on her to make a minidress. "That suits you."

"Yeah, I'm rethinking my entire wardrobe. Go on, take your turn."

"Er, right."

I waited till she turned her back and covered her eyes. Then I walked back to the other end of the stall and stripped down. It was tricky bathing with a bar of soap designed for a rabbit. But the brand, Smile, smelled nice, cheerful in a way. I found it easiest to rub against the soap rather than rub it onto myself. I tried not to imagine Rita doing this. [OK, I admit it, I took a peek or two. Just the back view. He's got a nice bum.]

Then I stood under the spray and let the water wash away the soap and muck. When I was done, I realized we didn't have any towels, or I guess they would've been rabbit-sized wash cloths. I'd have to get dressed with wet fur, as Rita had. I picked up the shirt and trousers the fox had handed me. I stepped into the trousers, which were baggy on me but would have to do. He hadn't given me any underwear (Nor Rita? Don't think about it!), but it probably wouldn't have fit anyway. And maybe the plushies didn't have knickers. I really didn't want to think about that.

I called over to Rita. "All done! Now what?"

She gestured for me to come over, so I did. Then she whispered, "I don't reckon your slug friends are going to be able to get us out of this loo."

"Probably not. The poor things may not have made it out of the carpark." I tried not to imagine them getting squished when all the cars left after the concert.

"Pity. Anyway, I don't think we can escape this bathroom, especially not with the rabbit standing guard outside."

"No, probably not."

"And she and the fox are supposed to be the fuzz."

I resisted punning that they looked more fluffy than fuzzy and instead said, "Yes, perhaps they can arrest Mr. Big and we can get _The Dodger_ back."

Rita shook her head. "Dunno. There was something weird about the way they reacted to our story. They may be on the take from the Mob. We'll have to proceed cautiously. But for now, let's play along like we trust them."

"Good plan."

Then someone knocked and I heard Hopps ask, "Are you two done or do you need more time?"

"All done," Rita called.

The rabbit opened the door, came in, shut off the water, put the soap back in its dish, and then picked up us and our dirty clothes. "I can wash these in the sink in my room," she said, "but I figured you'd prefer the privacy of the shower for yourselves."

"Yes, thank you, very considerate," I murmured.

She took us back to her room, set us on the bed, and put the mucked-up clothes in her sink.

"So, introductions?" the fox said. "I'm Nick Wilde and the bunny is Judy Hopps."

"Pleased to meet you," I said. "I'm Roddy St. James and—"

"And I'm Millicent Bystander," Rita said quickly.

I looked at her in surprise, wondering why he was using the name that The Toad's henchrats thought was mine.

"Good to meet you, Roddy, Millicent," Wilde said in a tone that made me think he wasn't fooled. But there was nothing I could do about it.

"So Innocent and I were millicently, I mean Millicent and I were harmlessly minding our own business when Mr. Big's sailors captured our boat."

"And we want it back," Rita said. "Can you help us?"

"Well," the rabbit said, not meeting our eyes but instead scrubbing our clothes at her sink, "it's kind of a complicated situation."

Rita and I exchanged glances and I knew she was thinking _I told you so._ [Actually, I was thinking that the rabbit and the fox would probably turn us right over to Mr. Big.]

"Yeah," said the fox, "our relationship with Mr. Big is complicated. We may be able to work out a deal, but it's going to take time."

"I see," I said. I didn't know if it was a good or a bad thing that we'd fallen into the paws of a pair of cops that had mob connections. Perhaps they were the only ones who could reason with Mr. Big, but I was wary of this "deal."

"Meanwhile," said the fox, "it's late, so you may as well stay the night."

"Nicholas, may I have a word with you?"

"Certainly, Judith. Excuse us a moment."

They stepped out into the hall and shut the door behind them.

"So you two are rats, right?" asked one of the voices from the other side of the wall.

"Uh, yes, we are," I said, wondering if we were going to get words of wisdom.

Then the other male neighbor said, "Ha! I knew it! Five bucks, pay up."

The first voice grumbled and that was the last we heard from them that night.

Rita whispered, "OK, we stay the night but we sleep in shifts and we escape first chance we get."

"You don't trust the police?" I whispered back.

"Not these police, no."

Before I could argue about it, the fox and the rabbit came back.

"Well, it was nice meeting you two," said Wilde. "I'll see you in the morning. 'Night, Fluff. Call me if you need anything."

"Thanks, Nick." She looked like she wanted to hug or kiss him but seemed to hesitate in front of so many eye-and-or-earwitnesses.

After he left, she set a pillow on the floor and said, "Will this be comfortable?"

"Yeah, thank you," Rita said.

"And thank you for all your help."

Hopps shrugged. "I'm a cop. I'm here to help."


	6. Duke of Early

I didn't intend to snuggle Rita in my sleep. But the pillow was so soft and so was her body.

Then I heard her hiss, "Roddy, what are you doing?"

I groggily woke up and realized what was going on. I quickly let go. "I beg your pardon."

"Never mind," she said. [It felt nice to feel him holding me, but this wasn't really the time or place.] "The rabbit just went to take a shower."

It was barely dawn. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, she took a towel with her and she was wearing a robe over her pyjamas."

"Ah. Did she leave the door ajar?"

"Yeah, just enough. So we've got to get our clothes, change, and leave before she gets back."

"Where are our clothes?"

"On top of the radiator."

"Can you get up there without your shoelaces?" (They were still in her jeans I assumed.)

"Yeah, if you'll give me a boost."

"Oh, right." So I did and, I didn't mean to look, but I couldn't help noticing she was wearing her knickers. [Well, it's not like the sewer muck had seeped down to that layer. I was surprised to find out in reading this that Roddy hadn't put his underpants on. Not to mention that he was looking up my skirt, I mean plushie shirt.]

She climbed to the top of the radiator and threw our now dry clothes to the floor. I helped her down and then, with our backs turned to each other, we quickly changed into our clothes. We left the plushie outfits on our pillow. I considered hiding mine under the bed, but it wasn't like the bunny wouldn't immediately realize we were gone when she returned.

We slipped out into the hallway. The coast was clear. We made our way over to the staircase and got down to the ground floor without running into anyone. The front door was closed but we were able to squeeze out through the mail slot.

There were very few animals (and no humans) out on the street.

"Where to now?" I whispered.

"Dunno," she muttered.

I understood. We were lost in an unknown city. We had gone from the frosty region, Tundratown, to the place where the concert was held, and this seemed to be the city centre. How would we get back to Mr. Big in Tundratown, especially on foot?

"Let's get away from this neighbourhood at least," Rita said.

That made sense. We didn't want the bunny and her fox friend finding us.

We walked a few blocks before we stopped. Unlike Ratropolis, this city was not designed for animals our size, although we would sometimes pass establishments that seemed aimed at or at least welcoming of rodents. None of them were open yet because it was so early. I supposed it didn't really matter, since we had none of the local currency and I had no idea where we could exchange our Stiltons, if we could.

"We need a map," I said.

"You need a map? You want maps to celebrities' homes? Treasure maps? Yokemon Go maps?"

I turned and saw a weasel in an undershirt and striped shorts.

"No, we'll manage without one, thank you," Rita said crisply.

"You sure? These are up to date and 100% accurate."

"That's wonderful, but I'm afraid we don't have any of your local currency," I said.

"So you're from out of town?"

"You could say that," Rita said dryly.

"Well, as a special welcome to the city, I'll give you a free map for Little Rodentia."

"Little Rodentia?" I repeated.

"Yeah, it's not too far from here. It's a nice neighborhood for mammals just like you two."

To my surprise, Rita, who's usually so suspicious, said, "That's very thoughtful of you. Thank you."

"My pleasure. And I recommend you go to the Visitors' Centre, which opens at 9 a.m. They can help you get oriented."

"Thank you very much, Sir," I said.

"Duke Weaselton."

"Roddy St. James. And, er, Millicent—"

"Millicent Fitzsimmons."

"Nice to meet you. Here's the map. And here's my card just in case you need me for anything."

"Thanks," Rita said, taking both.

"We're right here," Weaselton said, pointing to a spot on the inset map of Zootopia that showed where Little Rodentia was in relationship to the city as a whole.

"Ah," I said. It looked like it was going to be quite a walk. We obviously couldn't catch a cab or even a bus, not without money. But it seemed like we would be safer there than in the city at large, pun intended. As it was, I kept worrying about being stepped on by the big animals that passed by now and then. In Ratropolis, everything is designed for us. And in the human world, well, at least humans are in a comparatively narrow range of sizes, while here it was actually more difficult never knowing what kind of animal we'd see next, so I wasn't sure how to adjust.

After we said goodbye to Weaselton, we walked out of his sight and then Rita said, "So what do you reckon? Should we go to Little Rodentia or head for Tundratown?"

"Well, it looks like Tundratown would take us days to get back to, unless we can get ahold of a vehicle."

"Good idea. Maybe I can hot-wire a car in Little Rodentia."

"Rita!" I exclaimed in shock. True, she often bends the law, but that was taking things too far.

"Kidding," she said. [I was, mostly.]

I shook my head and we began the long trek to the rodents' neighbourhood. If the rabbit and fox were in pursuit, there was as yet no sign of them. And even though they, the bunny particularly, were smaller than some of the other animals we'd seen so far, they would have to be too large to enter Little Rodentia, which the map said was a gated community with a height limit. We would catch our breath, go to the Visitors' Centre, and proceed from there.


	7. Crazy Train

Little Rodentia proved to be a charming neighbourhood, more quaint than Ratropolis, with a look of old New York about it, brownstones and all. [We never did find out if there's a country called Rodentia, like there is an Italy and a China.] It was surrounded by the gate that the map mentioned, but we had no trouble going through the open and unguarded entrance. And we soon made our way to the Visitors' Centre....

"Now let me get this straight," said the chinchilla at the welcome desk ten minutes later. "You're from out of town and you don't have any local money and you want to do some sightseeing?"

"Yes, that's correct, Sir," Rita said. She wanted to do most of the talking, and that was what she came up with. None of it was technically untrue, although it did bend the truth of course.

"Which parts of Zootopia were you interested in?"

"Primarily Tundratown," I said.

Rita gave me an annoyed glance but I didn't think that was giving away much. Besides, we needed to know how to get there.

"I see. Well, the Little Rodentia train line primarily connects with the main ZTA lines throughout Downtown and Savanna Central. I could give you free passes for the LRT, but you'd still need a transfer to one of the lines that run through Tundratown. Where in Tundratown did you want to go?"

"Oh, just all around," Rita said.

"We love snow," I said.

She looked like she was struggling not to roll her eyes.

"I see. Well, probably the best thing under the circumstances would be to get some casual employment, maybe just a few hours to cover your expenses, something where you wouldn't have to have established residency."

"Do you know where we could find anything like that?" Rita asked.

"Let me take a look at our cyber-bulletin-board." He focused on his computer. I noticed that the Zootopian technology, including phones, seemed to be more advanced than what I'd seen even in London.

"Hm, yes, do you know anything about botany?"

"Of course," Rita said quickly.

I didn't know much myself, just what I'd seen on TV, but I supposed I could bluff my way through for a few hours. [That was what I planned to do. After all, I grew up in a subterranean city. What did I know about flowers and plants?]

"Great! There's a florist who needs some fill-in help today since his regular employee has a cold. Would you like me to print out the address and directions?"

"Definitely. Thank you so much."

"My pleasure. We're here to help visitors after all." The chinchilla chuckled.

Once we had the address, the directions, the train passes, and the maps for the LRT and the Zootopia Transit Authority, we said goodbye and made our way to the train station. In a way, I wished we could stay in Little Rodentia. It felt good to be back in a community that was full of our type of animals, small and of our species, rather than the chaos of a place with larger, fiercer animals like bears. On the other hand, the fiercest animal we'd met so far was a shrew. I wished we didn't have to return to his home, but I didn't see any other way of getting _The Dodger_ back.

At least it was all rodents on the LRT. The routes seemed straightforward, too. In contrast, the ZTA map was full of loops that seemed remarkably inefficient. Having lived in London, I was somewhat familiar with the lines of the Underground, and the system was complex but essentially sensible. The ZTA lines duplicated each other too much and literally went in circles when there was usually no need and straight lines would've served the purpose better.

The main quirk of the LRT was that the elevated train passed under clear plastic structures that resembled the habritails I vaguely remembered from my infancy in a pet shop. The train had enough clearance, but I could look out the windows and see rodents walking over the train tracks. [I wondered what they'd be like in Ratropolis, but they seemed a bit hamstery and wouldn't appeal to most rats and mice. Still, I think my kid brothers and sisters would love something like that at our house. I decided to look into it when and if we got home.]

We soon arrived at the part of Downtown where the florist's was supposed to be. We knew there was a chance we might run into the bunny and fox now that we were among larger animals again. But my main concern was to not get stepped on by much larger animals than they were, especially now that it was later and more of them were out and about.

We found the florist's and went in. The proprietor was a soft-spoken otter in spectacles and, despite the mild weather in that part of town, a green jumper. We introduced ourselves (Rita still using the "Millicent" cover) and he said, "Ah, yes, I just got a message from the Visitors' Centre. I'm Emmitt Otterton and I appreciate you helping out today."

He showed us around the shop, explaining a bit, and then he put us to work, stripping roses of thorns. It wasn't pleasant work (I stuck myself a bit) but at least it wasn't overwhelming. After that, he gave us some other menial tasks, like sweeping up.

I was just about to ask when lunch was (at that point we must've earned enough that we could get sandwiches or something else cheap and quick at a nearby restaurant), when he said, "I have a delivery to make. Would you two like to go with me?"

"Er, I suppose," I said, hoping that it wouldn't take long. I didn't want to work all day. We needed to get to Tundratown before dark, and I was getting tired. (I'd never had a job before I worked for Rita, and being her first mate is more mentally stimulating than working at a florist's, so I don't get worn out so easily.)

"Where to?" Rita asked. [I was thinking, if it was at or near Tundratown, we could maybe call it a day after that, collect our wages, and head for Mr. Big's. We didn't know the address of course, but we could cautiously ask around once we were in Tundratown.]

"Oh, Tundratown. That's the cold district, so I can loan you scarves if you like."

"Sounds great!" Rita said.

"Yes, er, we're eager to see as much of the City as we can while we're here." I was glad we were going to Tundratown but would we be able to just take off on our own? We hadn't been paid yet and we might have to come back Downtown for that. Well, it would still be good to explore more of the district, get our bearings, so if we had to return, we wouldn't be as lost.

"Good. I'll go get the scarves." He went into the store room.

"Rita," I whispered quickly, "what are you planning?"

"Well," she whispered back, "we'll need to get there and see if it looks familiar."

I was about to point out that we hadn't seen much of Tundratown, even from the limos to and from. But Mr. Otterton returned with the scarves. They turned out to belong to his children, but they were still very long on us. We wrapped them around each other sort of like Egyptian mummies, but leaving our heads and limbs as free as we could. While we helped the otter load up the van, he told us about his family, including that his younger child loves soccer. He was clearly a devoted family man.

He started up the van. Then he turned more serious and said, "There was a time, a few months ago, when I had some serious mental issues, but my wife, Olivia, stood by me through it all."

I thought that was sweet, but when I looked at Rita, she had an expression like she was worried he was a psycho killer. He was so mild-mannered I figured she was being her usual paranoid self. I chuckled quietly. It wasn't like an otter would turn violent, like the fox cop might've. [I had a bad feeling about this, but I didn't see the point in jumping out of the van. I'd wait till it was relatively safe to escape. And I wanted to get back to Tundratown first, if possible. If the otter went off the rails before then, well, Roddy and I had escaped crazies before.]


End file.
